


No Solution

by randi2204



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Angst, M/M, Other, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-16
Updated: 2010-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the fifth member of the team shows up before they leave for Arus, someone on the team knows he's dangerous... but he doesn't know how.  Slowly, they all find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Solution

**Author's Note:**

> Written for one of the Lyric Wheels on the vying Yahoo! group. The song I was given was "Building a Mystery" by Sarah McLachlan.
> 
> Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron. Not mine, no money, no kidding.

No Solution

 

You know how some people say that everything you are, everything you think and feel – it all shows in your eyes? They say that you can know someone completely, just by what their eyes are like when you first meet them.

 

I always kind of shook my head and grinned. It takes years to get to know someone; you _never_ get to know anyone just by what their eyes tell you in the first moment of meeting.

 

Then _he_ was assigned to the Arus team. None of us knew who he was. None of us even saw him until he arrived at the ship, just prior to taking off.

 

And I met his eyes and shivered and looked away too quickly.

 

His eyes were cold and dark and they _glittered_ , like diamonds when he looked at me. And the way he kind of... appraised the rest of the team chilled my blood.

 

He is a predator, cruel and merciless in the hunt. I knew it in an instant, knew with sickening certainty churning in my gut that we were all doomed.

 

Because we are his prey now, every one of us.

 

And I’m more scared than I’ve ever been.

 

***

The trip to Arus is a long one, in this old ship that we have been assigned.

 

My nerves are shot.

 

There is not a day that passes that I don’t feel his eyes on me almost all the time, as if he’s taking stock of his property.

 

I’ve just got this feeling that I can’t shake... that he claimed me, somehow, the moment our eyes met, or our hands touched. No matter how I try to ignore it, to ignore him, I am hyper aware of his every motion.

 

Do the others have this sense? Do they know that they’ve been marked, singled out as prey?

 

I should be trying to come up with a way to kill him, to incapacitate him, but I _can’t_.  I’ve wracked my brain, thought myself into a headache that won’t go away. But I can’t come up with any way to keep him away from the rest of us. And I’m not entirely sure I could kill him, not with the materials at hand.

 

I’m not entirely sure I’d even get the _chance_.

 

I really need to get off this ship and into some fresh air, before I lose my mind.

 

***

Doom is not quite what I had in mind when I said I needed fresh air, however.

 

We need to get out of here. Fast.

 

I would have said that this would be his element, but even _he_ is nervous. And I think that’s saying something. About Zarkon and Haggar, and even...

 

I’ll be able to deal with this once we get back to Arus...

 

***

Even when we think we’re safe, we’re not, not really.  Safety is just an illusion that we fool ourselves into believing, because facing the truth would just...

 

Yeah. I thought we would be safe here. I thought that the... the way this place seems so pure would stop him, that it would keep him from entering, or maybe strip away the predatory scent and feel that always makes me shiver and recoil.

 

But he was able to enter, was able to touch the keys, the sacred emblems, able to pilot the Lion. Everything. Even when the new castle rose up, and it looked so like a church that I thought surely, surely that would keep him out, keep him away... it didn’t.

 

I can’t even say anything to the Princess or her old advisor. They would think I’m insane! Either that, or they wouldn’t see anything wrong with the situation. I mean, come on! The ghost of the late king walks the halls and shows up whenever he feels like it. What could  
possibly be wrong with having this... this hunter, this... _vampire_ around as well?

 

I am nearly at my wit’s end, here... What can keep him away from me?

 

***

Sven is gone. And I’m so ashamed... because I was so glad that it wasn’t me that I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

 

As awful as it sounds, I am not really surprised that he was the first to fall. What _did_ shock me was that he broke so easily. But from the moment he joined us, I knew.  I could see – even me! – how Sven’s cool, almost aloof manner overlaid a passionate nature. The flashes of that side of him that showed during our escape from Doom, and our trek to the Castle of Lions did not go unnoticed, and I knew that Sven would be far too tempting for _him_ to resist. To crack that icy veneer, to unleash all that hidden fire and emotion... oh, yes. I knew it would happen, that he would not be able to restrain himself.

 

Not that he would _want_ to... Restraint like that goes against his very self.

 

And I didn’t even try to stop it.

 

Almost as soon as the Princess gave us our own quarters in the ruined castle, I would find Sven leaving a room not his own at odd hours. He always looked... strange, even guilty, whenever I saw him. More than that, he looked like he’d only had a passing acquaintance with his bed for days... less than twelve hours after I’d last seen him, when he seemed fine. He looked... worn. Frazzled. Much, much older than he ought.

 

And he _knew_. I could see it in his grey eyes, could see the desperation that knowledge brought. Sven knew what was happening to him, knew he was being led to burn himself  
out, to flare and die too soon.

 

That’s why he ran. You will never be able to convince me otherwise. His noble nature, his desire to save the rest of us, or just a foolhardy moment – no. He was trying to escape. The way he took was the only way out of the trap left for him.

 

And I’m hoping this is the end of it. But I know it’s not. It can’t be. Those glittering eyes... they made a promise.

 

So I know it will happen. There isn’t anything I can do to stop it. That’s not even the worst part of all, the absolute helplessness I feel over it all. The worst part is the shame, the knowledge that if I’d acted, if I’d _done something_ , Sven would be here and alive, and _he_ would be gone. Dead.

 

And I still can’t do anything.

 

It’s selfish and horrible of me, but I hope I’m not next.

 

***

Actually, I’m rethinking that. I don’t want it to happen, but it’d be better than who he’s fixated on now. I mean, my god! He’s just a kid!

 

Perhaps it’s because Pidge is so young, but I think he’s being more careful this time. Pidge doesn’t have that... aged veil, doesn’t have the same burden of knowledge that  
Sven had.

 

But his eyes have this glazed, spaced out look that Sven’s never did. He wanders around kind of aimlessly, smiling at nothing, and I haven’t seen him touch his computer or anything since...

 

Honestly, I thought it would be Hunk. I mean... Hunk’s more volatile than Sven, of course, but...

 

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s not what I think it is, and he’s not... _feeding_ off the kid somehow. Maybe he’s not a vampire.

 

But I can’t shake the dread that I’m _right_. And how I wish I wasn’t.

 

***

I suppose it’s unfair to call him a vampire. I mean, he is active enough during the day. Which is a good thing, considering that most of Lotor’s ro-beasts attack us during the day, and if he weren’t with us, then we’d all be toast.  Or slaves. And I don’t need to say which option is the more unpleasant.

 

So, yeah. He can’t be a vampire in _that_ sense. I mean, _he’d_ be the one who was toast if he were. Right?

 

But at night... I’ve seen it happen. Something happens to him, some kind of change comes over him. If he’s active during the day, then he’s more _alive_ at night.  It’s like he becomes... _deeper_ , somehow, or more _himself_. What happens during the day, what he’s like when it’s bright is all a sham, and the darkness brings out the real him.

 

His eyes sparkle more at night, there’s a... an _aura_ around him that simply draws people to him, pulls them into his sphere of influence as surely as gravity pulls planets  
around the sun. I’ve felt it. It draws me, too.

 

He is beautiful, a beautiful fucked-up man, the kind that I’ve always been attracted to. The spice of danger, the predator’s eyes, gives me a thrill that’s difficult to contain.

 

And it’s getting harder and harder to resist. I often have to force myself to remember the hungry, greedy look he had when I first met him, because if I don’t, I might just find  
myself in his arms, and not caring what he does to me.

 

Even the memory is becoming faded, tattered with overuse. He doesn’t have that look any more. Or maybe... maybe he just brought it out to show me.

 

Or maybe I just imagined it?

 

***

Get a grip. Of course you didn’t imagine it.

 

***

Maybe he’s not going to kill me after all. I’m beginning to think he’s just going to drive me insane instead.

 

Pidge is still drifting around, there and not quite, and now Hunk has joined him in that... sleepwalker state.  They don’t seem to eat, and though they go to their rooms at night, I’m not sure if they sleep. I don’t even know if they _need_ to.

 

If only I’d said something to Hunk after Sven was injured... if I could have just gotten past the impossibility of the idea, and confessed my fears to him, there’s the chance  
that the two of us might have _done_ something.

 

How much does he need? _What_ does he need? What could he possibly be using them for? I swear it can’t be blood, because neither of them look anemic, but there’s no way I  
can say they look _well_. They look and act like mindless zombies, most of the time, with queer little matching smiles. I suppose I should be grateful that they seem to... wake up, when Lotor comes to call, but I find myself missing Hunk’s voracious appetite, and Pidge’s sense of humor, and a thousand other things that I never really noticed about them before.

 

God, I’ve sacrificed them to save my own ass. How can I say I deserve to live? How can I say I’m better than him?

 

***

Maybe it’s time to think about this _rationally_ , instead of reacting from that gut-clenching fear?

 

***

Even the Princess seems to be under his spell now... her eyes are glassy and blank unless they’re following his every movement.

 

I can’t even remember when that happened. Maybe... has it always been that way and I just now saw it?

 

What will I do? I know, I know without a doubt that one day, and soon, that low, whiskey-rich voice will trickle down my spine, calling my name, calling me to him.

 

And I’m afraid that I won’t have the strength to resist. I’m afraid that I never did, that he’s only been toying with me thus far, humoring my petty rebellion because he knows that my fall will be the sweeter for it.

 

I’m a moth to his flame, and his allure, his edge and charm are pulling me closer and closer, and soon I’m going to burn...

 

***

He knows. Oh, dear sweet fucking god, he knows.

 

He was lounging in the corridor, leaning against the wall, watching me with those bottomless eyes. I have to steel myself every time I pass him, just to avoid...

 

To avoid what? Trying to put a stake into him? Flinging myself at him heedlessly and begging...?

 

“I read your journal.” His voice was full of muted laughter. He was mocking me.

 

I was... I was mortified. Appalled.

 

For Christ’s sake, I sound like a schoolgirl whose crush has been found out! I should have been frightened out of my wits, to know that he knew what I thought about him,  
that I knew his secret. I should have been terrified that he would kill me on the spot.

 

But somehow, I knew he wouldn’t. It could have been the memory of being claimed, of thinking I was his personal property. It could have been a moment of insanity. It must have been both.

 

But whatever the reason, I just stood there, red faced, staring at him.

 

When I said nothing, he smiled and pushed himself away from the wall. He circled around me, his shoulder brushing mine, his fingers trailing along my back, then across my front. I couldn’t turn to follow him; something had rooted my feet to the floor.

 

“You haven’t got it all wrong, you know,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. “I am what you think I am.” And then he was behind me again, and I closed my eyes. “I _am_ a vampire,” in my other ear, that same soft breathy tone.

 

I shivered; I couldn’t help it.

 

“I _am_ a predator.” He stopped in front of me, and I forced my eyes open, to meet his. His finger skated its way up my chest, leaving a warm tingle in its wake. “But I’m not after you for you blood.” He made a face that would have been funny under any other circumstance, but just then...

 

He leaned in closer, until I could see the gradations of color in his sparkling eyes. “That’s not what I feed from, love. I feed on your emotions.” His finger touched my throat, and I jumped, but could not look away.

 

“Only your emotions... and yours were so strong that I didn’t even need to be close to you.” His fingers swirled their lazy way down my chest once more. “They found their  
way to me across the castle. Your worry, your guilt, your delicious fear...”

 

It took some doing to make my mouth work, but I managed. “You feed off our _fears?_ ” I blurted, shocked.

 

He laughed. “Oh, yes. Any strong emotion is good... but fear is best.” His voice dropped into husky sensuality, striking some long forgotten chord within me, and my body reacted immediately, arcing into his light touch, arousal singing so sweetly through me that I almost missed his words.

 

“At first, I was starving. Even your panic was not quite enough. But there was Sven,” and the way he purred the name was not quite obscene, “Sven, who kept everything under such tight rein that it was a joy to see. Because once I started to chip away at him, all his passion, his anger, his guilt and shame and...” He stopped, his eyes closed, shuddering. “It was so much, so good, the way it all flooded out... I glutted myself on him. And I  
forgot to blur his memories.” Those glittering eyes were on mine again. “He remembered everything I did to him. And that made it even better.”

 

He pulled away from me slightly, to take in the sight of me, excited, panting, and gave me a pleased grin. “But it burnt him out. He felt everything so _strongly_ that he  
simply couldn’t handle the intensity of it, of what I was doing to him. I remembered, finally, but by then, it was too late and Sven was gone.” His pout was so obviously  
false that it was nearly sickening, and he sighed.

 

“But that meant I got to play with Allura and Hunk and Pidge... and you.”

 

I stopped breathing for a moment.

 

“You’ve been fighting me since the moment you saw me. I’ve wanted you from the moment I felt your attraction and loathing, from the moment I felt the strength of your  
emotions floating across the hangar bay.”

 

His eyes were bright and knowing as he leant forward, slowly, slowly, giving me every chance to escape, if I wanted to.

 

And no matter how much I’d dreaded that moment, I found myself transfixed by the way his darkened eyes danced, by the slash of his mouth, about the only color in his pale face.

 

So he kissed me, briefly, just the feather-light brush of his lips over mine, then he pulled back, and gave me that look, eyes half-lidded, and a know-it-all grin, and sauntered off down the corridor. I just kind of collapsed against the wall, unable to take my eyes off him.

 

I am left with the feeling that there’s nothing left now.  Everything I’ve ever tried to do has been completely pointless.

 

Because he knows that I... I want it now. I want him.

 

***

It’s dark now. It’s taken me this long to find my courage.

 

It’s time to end this, though, one way or the other. I’ll either kill him or be lost in his little world of never-ending pleasure. I’ve finally figured out that that’s how he... he blurs their memories. Allura and Hunk and Pidge... they’ve all been with him, in his room, and they still live, and they’re _happy_.

 

I hope they are. Please...

 

At least they aren’t entirely brain-dead; the fact that they can react during battle proves that. No one man, no matter how good he is, could control 4 Lions.

 

Finally, I’m in front of his door, anticipation uncoiling in my stomach...

 

And it occurs to me that he didn’t even have to call my name. I’m here of my own free will. I start to tremble.

 

Do I even have a chance?

 

The door opens before I can knock. Suddenly nervous, I step in, clutching the small bottle of holy water, hoping that it will work...

 

The only light in the room is from the candles, throwing a multitude of dancing shadows against the walls. I peer into the darkness, trying to find him, trying to remember  
just what it was I came here to do...

 

The door closes behind me, without me having even touched it. I hear it lock, and start to panic. My hands are sweating, and the bottle starts to slip.

 

He’s hidden in plain sight, in the bright light of day for so long that I’d forgotten that the darkness reveals him.  He steps from the shadows, and the candlelight flickers over his sharp features, the fire-cast visage at once new and strangely familiar. Drawing me to him once more. He reaches for my hands, and I give up the blessed vial without resistance. What happens to it after that, I have no idea, and I don’t care as I glance up into his face.

 

The instant before I’m lost in his eyes, I see they are not the black, black holes I’d always thought them to be, but the blue of the ocean, deep and fathomless. Before I’m caught in his kiss, I see his hair is not drab brown, but glints with red and gold.

 

And then I am drowning in him, unable to surface

 

***

May 1, 2004


End file.
